Laisser Disparaissent
by EternalVampiress
Summary: We Padfoot and Prongs decided that not enough light was shed on the tragic deaths of our beloved Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora Tonks. So... we have written a small Mm..not really that small... XD tribute to our friends!
1. Chapter 1

Although the battle was over, and the threat of Voldemort was diminished, mourning still existed for those who lost loved ones in that final battle. After quickly excusing himself, George Weasley walked out the front door of his home, the Burrow, with a fake hop in his walk. Once out of sight, he slowed to a rather funeral-like walk, and allowed an exasperated sigh pass his chapped lips. Sweat blossomed upon his furrowed brow and dripped down upon his downturned lip and unshavend chin, but he made no movement to shake off the cold, dripping moisture. He held his emotions inside him until he reached a small thicket of trees, where he quickened his pace to fall under the dark protection of the gnarled branches. Thorns caught under his skin and the leaves ripped upon his clothing; but all physical feeling was lost as the overwhelming pain of his loss hit him like a ton of bricks. Salty tears leaked from the corners of his pale blue eyes and traveled into the dry moisture of the earth. Two days until the funeral and George hadn't the slightest idea if he could even suck it up enough to go to that final goodbye; for that's what it was, the last time he would ever see his beloved twin again. It had been merely 48 hours since Fred's last laugh had died away; a short period of time to forget the passing of the one that understood you as he lived in your own mind. It still stuck in George's heart; like a giant hole had gauged itself where Fred had once lived; comfortably housed in George's embodiment. A branch broke in front of him and George opened one tightly squinted eye to see a mop of uncombed red hair and a shower of freckles lying in the same position he now found himself. A mere semblance of a child's fetal position. George roughly pulled himself up and rolled his calloused hands into fists and rubbed his sore, bloodshot eyes, drying the tears that had made themselves part of who George had quickly become. He dropped his arms only to shove apart the thorned branches to see no one less than his own little sister Ginny. This had come as a shock to George, though it shouldn't have, he never took into account that he hadn't seen Ginny since Fred's rather hasty death. The small girl lay, shoulders shuddering under quick gasps and large, fat, tear drops falling through Fred's rolled up quidditch robes. George fingered the scarlet and gold Gryffindor colored polyester. Ginny's eyes burst open as the material tugged underneath her pale white cheeks. "Oh…" A smile tugged at his lips that wasn't his own, one that Ginny had never seen on George's now too old face. It showed no happiness, no hope of a future, it showed only a semblance of what George wanted her too see. It was a ghost of George's old reflection. Ginny looked in George's eyes and saw her own pain, but in twenty-fold. He lost part of himself, and Ginny wasn't sure he would ever recover that part; especially when it was due to be buried in two days. Ginny opened her mouth to say what George had now heard a million times. George shook his head and crawled through the thickets branches to her small form on the other side. He pulled her into his chest and nestled her head against him folding his arms tightly across her small shoulders. Her quaint apology was lost in his thin patched robes. Ginny's shrill sobs raked at his heart and tore open his soul; Ginny lost an older brother, he lost a twin, neither could be regained, not now, not ever. They sat there in the comfort of each other's warmth and love, feeling each other's pain, misery and hate for whom had stolen away an eternity of love. No words were spoken; none had to be. Understanding simply flooded their beings.

After what seemed like an eternity of tears, and their hearts feeling none the lighter, George let go of Ginny and held her a shoulders length out, using one hand to wipe away the liquid grief that filled her still pulsing eyes. Her pupils were dilated and her cheeks puffy, her forehead was blotchy and her hair plastered to her face by cold sweat. "C'mon Gin, it's getting a bit late and the midnight's air is bringing us dew which has irritated our faces and caused our clothes to be soaked." George winked and put on his fake smile again. Ginny only cried harder. George stood and pulled Ginny to her feet, picking up Fred's wrinkled robes and shook out the creases. A small Polaroid fell loose of the robes grasp and fell to the thicket's ground. George picked it up and put it in his pocket for later examination; but now he had Ginny to tend to. He wrapped the Gryffindor gloried robes around her stature and smiled weakly. "You have his looks you know, never looked a lick like me. His nose, his lips, even his bedraggled red hair, you have his whole damned appearance you do." A watery, half hearted laugh echoed through her stuffy nose. "George, what am I gonna do now?" The words hurt, they shouldn't have, but they did. "Well sprout, we're gonna walk on up to the burrow and face the music. We'll get our stories straight as we walk." George wrapped an arm around Ginny's frail shoulders and urged her to walk, she did, reluctantly.

The walk to the burrow was much of the same as the walk down, both walked slowly, George hastily drying away his tears, Ginny crying harder than ever. "C'mon now Gin… Be strong… for Mum and Dad." George reached into his pockets for a kerchief but found none. "Here…" He reached into Fred's Quidditch robes and pulled out a tissue. "Fred always had a backup… bit of… crusty blood… should be alright…." He wiped away at Ginny's cheeks but the tears still came. "Ah, its okay, you're the baby of the family, I suppose they expect it from YOU." Anger peaked from deep inside and it took all of his strength to suppress it. How dare those bastards steal his twin. How dare they make Ginny cry like this… How… how… HOW DARE THEY! Another hand pulled on his sleeve and he peeked out of the corner of his right eye. It was Ron, a vision of his own tears imprinted across his face. George looked at his sad face and the deep bruised bags under his blue eyes. Ron's eyes bulged at the interrogation George was concluded and he put his head down, looking at the ground, drawing invisible circles in the grass. "Is Ginny alright?" His voice came out strong, though his stature proved weakened. George put his other arm tightly around Ron's shoulders and brought both of his siblings into his sides and rubbed their arms. "She is, now that you're here Ickle Ronnikins." They both looked up at George with sad eyes and they all felt it. At least they had each other, but it wasn't enough. They all needed Fred too.

As they entered the burrow the first thing noticed was a table set for eight; as if one child had never left her motherly clutches. Molly sat in an old mismatched wooden chair, her back facing them. As the door slammed behind them she switched her position and looked at the grieving trio. "Oh you guys are late for dinner again, and with this darned clock broken I never know what to think. Who knows if your father and Percy are truly at work! Fred, its been two days and your arm is STILL pointing at DEATH, as if you weren't standing right there! What utter NONSENSE!" George shook his head sadly and wiped a dirty hand through his tangled red hair with angst. "Ginny, I SAY, get Fred's robes off this INSTANT, you'll ruin them and we haven't the galleons to buy new ones!" Molly hastily got out of the chair and starting tugging the robes off of her daughter. "No Mummy let GO! LET GO!" Molly got the robes off of her daughter and dropped them across her chair. Ginny covered her mouth and held back her sobs. She danced out of her mother's grasp and ran up the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time. "Well… What on earth's gotten into your sister you two? And where's George at?" Ron raised his hands pathetically and brought them down into his face cursing broadly and loudly. Tears sparkled in his eyes and George looked up under his eyelashes. "Go check on Ginny, Ronnikins…" Thankful for the escape Ron ran up the stairs. "Fred, I made your favorite for dinner… lasagna and mashed potatoes, if…." "MUM, JUST… jUST STOP ALREADY!" George yelled loudly across the room at his delirious mother. He looked her in the eyes and saw that deep down she had to know. Her eyes were bloodshot and deep rings wrinkled her cheeks. Crowsfeet peeked from under her eyeshadow and her red hair was now thoroughly streaked with gray strands. "HE'S GONE MUM… GONE. YOU'VE STILL GOT ME, BUT HONESTLY WOMAN, HE'S GONE!" Molly smiled. "Oh honestly darling, what on earth are you talking about. Go find your brother and wash up for dinner, you look like you've been playing in the garden, come along dearie." Molly turned her back and marched past the clock, the she stopped. She turned around and stood in the wake of the clock. She stared up at it sadly. Without another word she took Fred's Quidditch robes and threw them over the clock. "No need to see a broken clock I suspect." Molly smiled broadly and set to work on the kitchen table, fresh tears dripping from her eyes. George cursed softly and crossed the room in two long strides. He grabbed hold of Molly and brought her short stature to his chest and whispered into her red hair. "Mum… pretending he's still here won't bring him back. Please Mum. Please stop pretending."

Up in his best friend's dull orange bedroom, Harry Potter sat at the foot of his makeshift bed, his bloodshot eyes hovering on the vivid, moving photo that showed a scarred man with his magenta haired wife and metamorph son, all smiling up at him. Remus Lupin held his child's hand, waving it back and forth. So serene… so happy were they. Harry still vividly remembered the moment the picture slid across the cold stone floor as Remus had run forth to aid his fellow comrades. How he had risked his life, him and Tonks, for them. For him. Harry fought against the urge to let his emotions flow forth, though he knew nothing would happen anyways; all his tears had been wasted on previous heartbreaks. His guilty conscience then swiftly overtook his emotions; it was his fault. Another Harry Potter was growing up in the form of Teddy Lupin. His fault that Remus and Tonks had left their son to aid him in his own personal battle. His fault they were dead. Personally his fault that so many had died along with them.

His guilty thoughts were scattered, random, and left just as hastily as they had come when Harry heard heavy footsteps grow louder from outside, approaching the wooden door to the bedroom. The door slammed open, and even though Harry knew the noise was coming, he felt himself jump up off the bed as Ron burst through, a fresh flow of tears trickling into his half open mouth. He was not expecting Harry to be there, and at sight of his friend, he cast his face downward and coughed, wiping his face with a maroon wool sleeve. "Hey…" he muttered quietly, a cocky tone attempting to cover for his reddened face. Harry nodded his hello and quickly but gently shoved the picture into the moleskin pouch tied around his neck, hanging so close to his still pulsing heart as Ron's gaze was averted. Harry tried to ignore his best friend's unsightly appearance and quickly attempted a conversation. "Say… that sweater's a might big on you Ron, I think maybe you should eat more… dinner is ready isn't it?" Ron lifted his face and looked at Harry, "It's… Fred's… Mum sewed it for him last Christmas." Harry's eyes widended and Ron uncrossed his arms. He now noticed the large, yellow, 'F' labeled harshly acrossed his abs. The tears that Ron had learned to cover up so well over the years now peaked forth yet again. Harry walked towards his friend and put his hand as to pat him on the back, console him, Ron did the same for Harry as he noticed Harry's own eyes take a new glistening appearance. Deep down they both knew consolance for any but Hermione and Ginny was impossible. At last Harry grasped Ron's shoulder and walked forth with Ron in the tow. "Come along Ron. Your mum's finished with dinner, been listening to her holler for Fred… errr…. Us… last few minutes…" With that the duo walked out the room and to the top of the stairs, but stopped harshly. At the end of the staircase it was easy to see that George sat on the sofa, cradling his mother's softly weeping form deep in the cradle of his arms. They both bowed their heads respectfully and decided to change their path and go check on Ginny instead. They ventured slowly down the hall and came almost to the wooden door that had several pock marks in the door where Fred and George had once played with whiz bangers. As they came nearer they heard a watery giggle and Hermione's own soft laugh. Harry hesitated as he placed his hand upon the door knob. Ron's own voice approached his hearing. "C'mon mate. Open it." Harry turned the knob and cracked the door and just… listened. Ginny's soft voice could be heard, amplified with her cries. "I re-remember when I wa-wanted to g-go to hog-hogwarts with you gu-guys and mum sa-said n-no, that I would get my ch-chance next year. Fred and Ge-George said they'd send me a to-toilet seat." Ginny stopped and smiled, tears still flooding her face, but the old Ginny gleaming in her blue eyes. Ron walked into the room and sat down next to Ginny. Harry followed him in and sat down beside Hermione. For what seemed like hours they just sat around and told stories of what they all came to know as the good ole days.

A sudden and happy forgetfulness seemed to pass over the four teenagers as they left Ginny's bedroom. Both Harry and Ron had forgotten the state in which they had left the kitchen in, and as they entered, were surprised to see that the mood had lifted. Mr. Weasley had come home, and was discussing with Molly about the latest happenings at his work; an imprudent navy-robed wizard had again blown up a toilet or two in the restrooms on the Improper Use of Magic floor, and apparently Mundungus Fletcher had finally stolen that yellow rubber ducky he himself had been so oddly bemused by in past years. As Arthur saw Harry walk in and gasped. "Ah Harry, just the man I was about to seek. I got this… this… duck, and would just adore for you to show me how it works." Harry looked up into Arthur's face for a sign of a joke but saw none. Arthur's face was carved with hard lines that had never before been there until recently, his eyes were bloodshot and large sunken rings lye deep on his cheeks. The same gray hair that had plagued Molly, plagued Arthur as well, sure as his hair was receding. "W-well Mr. Weasley, it's difficult to explain… errr… I guess you just put it in the water and…err…. Watch it float. It really isn't anything special…" At the look of shock that crossed Arthur's face because of Harry's opinion on whether or not this was a find, Harry subdued and quickly revoked his opinion. "I, I mean, its wonderfully…. Cute…. But… you know… it's a…. a child's toy really…. A bath toy…" "AH! SPLENDID! I really must take a bath tonight and try out Dung's find." Arthur continued to walk away muttering a small "Splendid, simply splendid!" on occasion.


	2. Chapter 2

All through dinner, the table's guests sent varied glances at the empty seat and clean plate next to George. There was no talking, and any time conversation was attempted, it was immediately shut down by the heavy aura of loss that pressed down on the friends and family of Fred Weasley. It was harder than it seemed to dismiss the common facts: they were eating the favorite meal of the one they lost, without him being there. It was just plain heart wrenching.

The only sounds heard were the soft clinks of forks pushing the cooling meal around on the mismatched plates and crickets lamenting outside of the house. No one was truly eating, either because they were simply not hungry, or because it was human instinct to resist the meal out of respect to the missing house guest. But, to the sheer shock of the others, George was hastily stuffing his mouth full of the now cold lasagna. "Done." He said quickly. He stood and carried his seemingly clean dishes to the magicked sink, and allowed the washcloths and soap to do their work. He then disappeared from the kitchen, slipping a white square out of his back pocket as he hastily took the spiraling staircase three steps at a time. Ginny, who, in contrast, had not finished her meal, stood and followed suit, handing her still full plate to the awaiting dishcloth. Many were surprised that Mrs. Weasley dismissed this, for she usually would have told Ginny to finish her dinner. George had already descended the top stairstep and approached his bed, neatly made from his mum that morning. Fred's bed in introspect, lay virtually untouched since the day he died. George kept it this way, putting multiple charms upon it to void away his mum from touching it. This was Fred and George's haven, their lab, their home. It would stay that way. He lay flat on his back, his messy hair brightly contrasted against his white pillow. He held the white square an arms length away and looked tenderly up at it. Underneath the picture it read in, Ginny's girly scrawl, "The best players on the team!" It showed Fred and George brandishing their beater bats and Harry Potter waving his snitch in sheer victory. The snitch's wings had subdued but their broad smiles were plastered so broadly across their cheeks that George wasn't sure they would ever subdue. Fred and George's bright red hair waved in the wind and Harry's own messy hair made him the perfect semblance of James. The picture was perfect. Absolutely perfect. The tears that George thought he had cried away that morning came back in a wave of agony. The day the picture was taken, it never occurred to George that it would ever end, that he would ever lose his best friend, his brother, his comrade, his partner, his twin. Never for a moment suspected that things would crash so harshly upon him and his sullen family. The door creaked open and George looked out the corner of his eye. Ginny's lank hair and one blue eye appeared. George smiled shyly. "Did you finish eating or use their antisocial attitudes to your advantage?" "What do you think?" George laughed through his stuffy nose. He rolled onto his side, still holding the moving Polaroid, with his free hand he softly patted the empty space beside him. Ginny, though sniffling wildly held her back straight and walked forth with dignity to lay next to her older brother. Ginny snuggled next to George and asked what had been troubling her since dinner. "How… did you eat his favorite… his favorite meal?" Tears rolled silently down her cheeks and onto his chest. "Oh Ginny, gracious, don't be naive about these things. I'm his twin, it's my favorite meal too. Plus, it's mum's lasagna, how did YOU manage to say no?" Ginny let out a cautious giggle. Alas she saw the white square snuggled in between her and George. Without a single thought her pulled her wand out of her pajamas and whispered "Wingardium Leviosa," the picture rose to where George had been holding it earlier, but the wind the picture caused flushed out the candle flames. "No worries little one," George whispered and raised his own wand and watched as his mental spell caused a small ball of light to bloom upon his wand and show the three best players on the team wave in jubilation once more. Ginny smiled tightly and whispered almost beneath her breath, "G'night Fred, I love you and may you sleep well." George looked at his little sister in the dim of his wand. "G'night brother, may you have pleasant dreams as saintly as my own. " George smiled as his own joke, simply imagining the wise cracks he would receive back if only Fred were here. The two fell asleep to Fred's smiling face, and before long Molly walked in and placed a silent kiss upon their pale tear streaked cheeks. She noticed calmly the picture of the quidditch players, the same one that once stay magic tacked upon Ginny's wall. Molly picked it up off their combined forms and placed it in the front pocket of Ginny nightgown, without another sound she dismissed herself from the room, all the emotions that the picture caused welled up in her eyes. She made a routine checkup on each of the rooms along the way to her own, cracking each door open to the sounds of light breathing and the occasional snore. As she passed Harry and Ron she heard a faint mumbling. As Molly cracked open the door she saw Harry tossing and turning mouthing oppositions and screams. "No… No… Teddy needs them… George… Ginny… Ginny needs him… Please… not my family… you've taken enough… take me… not them. Not them." Molly strode fretfully through the dark room and sat next to Harry, immediately waking him from his nightmare. Harry sat up and looked into Mrs. Weasley's darkened face. "Why them Mrs. Weasley. Why isn't it ever me?" Molly pulled him into her chest and rubbed the back of his head, smoothing his wild hair against his scalp. "The great wizards have bigger plans for you yet Harry. It's all a part of a better world for our future, and you dearie have come farther them all." After several moments of consolation, Harry finally fell asleep, head tucked under Mrs. Weasley's chin, as if he still had a mother of his own. Mrs. Weasley let him slide gently down to his pillow, and watched as he rearranged his body into a comfortable position. She pulled the quilted blanket up to his chin, and tucked them beneath his undisturbed body. She put a kiss upon his cheek and then turned to her own, youngest son. She placed a kiss upon his forehead and whispered into his ear. "G'night my love, may you have you pleasant dreams." She dismissed herself from the room with a final glance into the dark, now quiet room and shut it tightly behind her. She finished walking down the hall, visiting Hermione's and Ginny's room briefly, to see Hermione sleeping peacefully, and Ginny's empty bed. Finally, she reached her own bedroom, and slid beneath the covers, next to her already sleeping husband. "Good-night Fred." She said to the darkness, blowing a kiss behind her own sincere words.

The next morning, the morning before the funeral, all tromped down the stairs to reach the table in time for breakfast, George and Ginny were the first to reach the end of the stair steps, Harry the last. No one was seated, all stared at the empty seat, but now missing plate. Molly Weasley had set the table for seven people. The eighth person, was now, noticeably cut from their natural lives. George stared at his mum momentarily and then went and hugged her around the shoulders. "That's the spirit mum. That's the spirit." The clock was now uncovered, its harsh hands still pointing at appropriate destinations. Fred's Hand still pointed at the bluntest of them all. "Dead." George looked at his mum, Mrs. Weasley back at her son. Both had tears streaming down their cheeks, but it wasn't the same angst they felt when they stressfully roleplayed as if he had never left them. All looked as to be feeling better, except Harry, who looked rather pale himself. No one noticed this, for they were indeed still swimming in their own kind of dread. Harry was the first to be seated, sitting next to Fred's empty seat. He ate before anyone was seated and then walked outside the burrow and apparated away. Mrs. Weasley who found extraordinarily peculiar looked at the others in question. They all shrugged and sat themselves at the table. Ginny looked up at her mum. "Can I go after him?" Mrs. Weasley looked at her daughter in shock. "You have not the slightest idea where he went and not the slightest idea how to apparate to that place… Even if you did know where he went! See! Nothing adds up!" A look of stupidity crossed her features. Ginny sighed helplessly and sat in the seat that Harry had just vacated. The only thing to do was to eat. And eat they did.

Harry was infuriated. The Weasleys were so wrapped up in the death of their son and sibling that they had forgotten Lupin's and Tonks' funeral. The two had practically been the last of Harry's honest goodness past. As he neared Godric's Hollow he could see in plain view none but three people. Andromeda Tonks holding Teddy, Minerva Mcgonagall, and the large hulking shape of Hagrid. Harry swept up his wizard cloaks and walked swiftly to join the few. He fingered a Polaroid and a small stone in his hands. He caught up to the three and saw two ivory caskets sitting flat upon the upturned earth, both covered with flags of Gryffindor colors. Mcgonagall turned long before he reached them. On her aged, but still mesmerizing, face were tracks of tears down her cheeks. She wore her black and emerald robes with her pointed witch hat. "Ah Harry, I was almost sure you would come at least." Hagrid turned at the mention of Harry's name. "Oh Bless me heart! Harry ye came!" Hagrid strode forward and hugged Harry vivaciously in his half giant arms. He smelled strongly of his own signature cologne; the ingredients from his very own garden. His hair was slicked back with a lot of grease, and his face showed strongly of tears recently shed. None the less, he was Hagrid. Andromeda came to Harry's side next. "Hello Harry Potter." A little Teddy Lupin reached out of a black silk blanket. Tufts of pink hair, contrasting vividly with the blanket, shown at his reach. His hair was the exact color of his mother's. He had Lupin's eyes, deep hazel. He was a sight for sore eyes. Harry's eyes filled and he reached out to the child. Andromeda placed him in his arms and Harry cradled him against his body. "Im sorry little one. Im so sorry. If I could have chosen it, I would have made sure your mummy and daddy came back. They fought bravely though, someday I'll tell you the whole story, you'll be so proud. You got me now little one. Just me, and I pray to Dumbledore that's enough" Harry continued to hold Teddy but just as the service was about to start he rolled the stone three times in his fist. The atmosphere around him changed and Sirius, James, Lily, Snape, Mad Eye Moody, Lupin, and Tonks' solid but yet hazy bodies appeared next to him. Lupin and Tonks were immediately side by side next to Harry, gazing intently at the little bundle of hope cradled in his arms. "Thank you for everything you're setting out to do Harry. Thank you so much." Lupin said warmly. Tonks lifted a hand next to little Teddy's cheek. "I love you little one, and trust me when I say that Harry is the best person to be handling you. He saved the WHOLE wizarding world. He'll explain it someday, tell you about us." Tonks smiled bravely and hugged Lupin. Sirius, James, Lily, Snape, and Mad-Eye stood behind Harry, watching the funeral procession. Lupin and Tonks were silent, feeling the irony of attending their own funeral ceremony. Harry held little Teddy through the entire service, watching as Lupin and Tonks was placed into an empty grave next to his very own parents, and yet still smiling bravely next to him. At the end of the service all but Lily, James, Sirius, Lupin and Tonks disappeared. Lily and James both kissed Harry as close to his forehead as they could and whispered their glee in his ear. "We're so proud of you Harry, you came so far. We're always beside you. We love you Harry. We love you so much." Sirius simply nodded to Harry. "'Well done Harry. Well done." Sirius glanced over at Teddy and frowned. "That's what I would have liked for us. I hope it's what Teddy gets… exactly what you never were supposed to have. A chance." Harry simply nodded and smiled at Sirius and his parents. After that they too disappeared. Lupin and Tonks stayed only moments longer to gaze upon Teddy, and then they too smiled their appreciation and love for Harry and disappeared beside him. Harry sighed and kissed Teddy on the forehead, silently handing him back to Andromeda and whispering away to the small child. "I'll visit Teddy, I promise, but its better if you stay with Andromeda, She knows kids better than me. You're the most important thing though kiddo. Life is going to be tough, but we can handle it, you and me, we're fighters." Harry smiled at Andromeda and apparated away back to the burrow.


End file.
